A Family Man (38 page)

“
So what was it? Accusing her of fucking me, or pushing her around?”

“
Both.”

Samson nodded and picked up a photograph. It had been taken in their back yard, a party or something. Their were several of his brothers in the picture as well as Joe, Beth and Amy. Everyone was looking at something out of shot and laughing. All except Beth. She was looking at her old man, her expression full of love. “That look like someone who was going to fuck around?” He dropped it into Joe’s lap. “You can deal with your own shit. I ain't here to go over old ground.”

“So why are you here?”

“
Dixon.”

Immediately Joe straightened up. Carefully, he put everything back in the box and replaced the lid. “You found him?”

“
Think so. Got Wolf checking our source, should know for sure in the next couple of days. Do I need to ask if you want in on this?”

Joe raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He knew that, despite the months that had passed since finding out he was still alive and his involvement in the events leading to Amy’s death, the Nomads and Canadian chapters were still looking. Dixon was smart and knew how they operated; sooner or later, though, he would surface, and when he did, they would find him. “Ain’t gonna be satisfied till that fucker’s in the ground.”

“Be ready to move in the next few days. According to the information we’ve been given, he’s got a cabin just north of Calgary. He was seen in a bar near there flashing his ink. Lucky for us the owner is a friend of the club and was suspicious. It’s unusual to see a lone Freak out that way, especially in winter.”

Joe nodded, the more isolated roads could be treacherous in winter and it was safer to ride with your brothers. “How sure are you that it’s Dixon?”

“Pretty sure. He fits the description.” Samson stood up. “I’ll call you as soon as I get word. Stay sober and clean this shit up.”

“
Okay. Hey man, I appreciate this. Especially after everything.”

“
Ain't gonna deny you the chance to finish Dixon. Don’t mean I ain't gonna want satisfaction in the ring, though. You disrespected me in front of my brothers, you need to answer for that.” He grinned. “I can wait to kick your stupid ass, but trust me, brother. It will happen.”

~ oOo ~

Less than a week later, Joe and Samson had crossed the border and were pulling onto the lot of a bar and grill just northwest of Calgary. They would be staying the night there and meeting up with two local Freaks in the morning. Both were cold and exhausted after spending over thirteen hours on the road and were looking forward to a beer and a comfortable bed. “Samson!” A buxom brunette ran over and threw herself into his arms. Joe rolled his eyes; he swore there wasn’t a bar on the continent that the nomad wasn’t known in. “I haven’t seen you for ages. I heard you’d been shot up real bad.”

“
Nah, just a little bullet. You know me darling, I’m a tough fucker.” He kissed her roughly. “How about we go out back and I’ll show you my scar.”

Shaking his head Joe leaned on the bar and ordered a beer. “Hey, baby.” He turned as a blonde sidled up to him. “Want some company?”

“Nah, maybe later.” He turned back, ignoring her. Beth may have run out on him, but as far as he was concerned they were still together and he had promised not to cheat. He may have been an asshole, but Joe always kept his word.

~ oOo ~

The following morning, as they tucked into a huge breakfast, Joe watched as their new companions strutted across the room towards them. They were identical, and huge, bigger even than him. For the first time in his life, he felt positively puny.

Samson stood and hugged the two men before making the introductions. “Joe, this is Pete and Jim. The psycho twins. Twins, this is Joe.”

Pete grinned. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Joe nodded. “Samson tells me you found where this asshole is hiding out.”

“Yeah. It’s well hidden, off the grid. Ain't no way we’ll get any vehicle up there without being rumbled. Only option is to approach on foot.” He turned to Samson. “Your leg gonna hold up? It’s pretty rough terrain.”

“
Yeah, it’s as good as new.” Jim (or Pete, Joe couldn’t tell) frowned but said nothing. Joe knew that Samson might look fine to the untrained eye, but the twins were hunters. They could stalk their prey for days and could spot any weakness no matter how well it was hidden.

~ oOo ~

Dixon was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. The cabin was exactly what Joe would have chosen. It was set well back from the road, and the track leading to the front was across open ground; even on foot it would be impossible to approach without being spotted. The other three sides were surrounded by woodland, making impossible for a vehicle to get through. It was, however, possible to get through on foot. Difficult, but not impossible. To the rear and on one side the trees and undergrowth were dense, but to the right they were more sparse as the ground became rockier and the ascent to the cabin more steep.

Joe stopped and waited for Samson to catch up. The psycho twins had been right; this was heavy going, even if you were one hundred-percent fit, and his brother was never going to be that again. “You need to take a rest, bro?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Samson gritted his teeth as he fought to keep up.

Ignoring how cold and wet it was on his ass, Joe sat on a log and lit a cigarette. “Take a break, man. You’re no use to me if you can't walk.”

Samson sat down and took the lit cigarette from him. “Guess I ain’t as fit as I thought I was. Mind you, if it wasn’t for your old lady I wouldn’t be walking at all.”

Joe scowled. Now was not the time to talk about Beth. “Yeah, I know, she’s amazing an’ I fucked up. I ain't heard nothing else from anyone all week.”

“That’s cuz she is an’ you did. An’ when this is done you are gonna do whatever it takes to find her and get her back.”

“
You gonna help me?”

“
And get it thrown back in my face? No, not this time. This time, Joe, you’re on own.” He shifted and, wincing, stretched his leg. “We better get moving. The twins ain't gonna wait forever.”

Stealthily, they approached the house. Dixon was in the living room, watching the TV with the volume turned up high and didn’t hear as Samson popped the lock on the kitchen door. He spun round as a floor board creaked and reached for his gun. “Too late, motherfucker.” Joe pressed the muzzle of his Glock against his temple and squeezed the trigger.

Samson looked around. “Think it might be a good idea to dump him out back and clean up a bit. Don’t need this coming back and biting the club.”

This was something they were well practiced in. Despite the ground being pretty hard, Samson managed to dig a shallow grave while Joe got to work with a blow torch, burning off the ink and finger prints and smashing his teeth with a sledge hammer. In truth, it would be unlikely that his body would be found, simply because no one would be looking. But the reason Joe and Samson had stayed out of jail was that they were never complacent. And sure enough, a couple of hours later the cabin was scrubbed clean, there was no evidence of either them or Dixon ever having been there, and they were driving to a remote spot in Dixon’s car, where the Psycho twins were waiting in the van. 

Neither spoke as they approached the rendezvous point. Samson watched Joe as he sat behind the wheel, his expression impassive. He didn’t know why he expected anything else.

Suddenly aware of his brother's scrutiny, Joe turned and gave the smallest of smiles. “Ain't gonna burst into song, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

FORTY-FOUR

The man tied to the metal post whimpered as again Joe turned on the drill. Spike leaned nonchalantly against the barn wall. “Seems to me, that all you need to do is tell us where those car parts are, and Joe here will put the drill away.”

“Ain't telling you shit, cracker.”

“
Then say goodbye to your kneecaps.” Spike grinned. “Take it away, Joe.”

“
My pleasure, brother.” Joe’s grin as the drill bored its way through the little Mexican’s kneecap chilled even Spike. “Ready to talk now, motherfucker?”

As soon as the screaming died down, Spike straightened up and moved closer to inspect the damage. “Gotta hand it to ya, Joe, that’s a fine piece of work. Hey.” He slapped the bound man back into consciousness. “Now between you an’ me, my brother has had a bit of a rough time recently, it’s kinda skewed his head. It really don’t bother him whether you talk or not, he's just having fun with his new toy. Now, you still got one functioning leg, but if you don’t start talking right now, I’m gonna give that sick son of a bitch the word, an’ I ain't sure that once he starts he’s gonna stop.”

“Okay.” it was barely a whisper. “The parts…..abandoned meat packing plant south of Reno.”

“
There now, that wasn’t so difficult was it?” He looked over to where Joe was standing, watching the exchange intently. “Joe. Call Vince, tell him what we know.”

Joe nodded and, flipping open his pre-pay, made the call. He had to admit Spike had a point. Something was skewed in his brain. He’d always been able to kill and maim to order. He wasn’t sure what it was that he had that others lacked. He was pretty sure it was more than just a strong stomach. What he did know, though, was that he had never got any real pleasure out of hurting people, it was just necessary. A dirty job, and someone had to do it. Now, though. Now things were different. The only thing that lifted the fog of indifference that had settled over him were the screams of his victims or the recoil of his gun. Nothing else worked. Not fucking faceless whores, not the feeling of his bike under him, not even his brothers.

His kid was dead and his old lady was gone. And all he felt was nothing.

After killing Dixon, he had been determined to find Beth and win her back, but it seemed she was always one step ahead of him. He, well, Mac, had found out that she was living in LA, but when he got to the address, she had gone, and since then, she seemed to have vanished. All he knew was that she had stayed in touch with his ma, and that she was alive and well. If his ma knew where she was, she wasn’t saying.

For three months he had looked before admitting defeat. Beth didn’t want to be found, and he had to respect that, even if it had ripped him apart.

Their big old house had a ‘for sale’ sign outside. It was too big, and there were too many ghosts. He had left word with his ma about his plans, and according to her, Beth was okay with it.

He threw his cigarette on the ground and walked back into the barn. “Vince’s getting it checked out, he said to keep our little friend here alive till we know what’s going on.”

Spike nodded and duct-taped the Serpiente ’s mouth. “Hope for your sake you ain't lying. Cuz if you are, a hole in your kneecap will be the least of your worries.” He turned back to his brother. “Might as well leave him here and go get a drink at the clubhouse. Gonna be a while till we get conformation on the intel, and our little brown buddy ain't going anywhere.” Joe nodded and collected together his stuff and put it into his duffle bag.

As Spike checked the Serpiente ’s bindings, he watched his brother. Like everyone close to Tiny, he was aware of everything that had happened, and had been on the sharp end of the fallout that had followed on several occasions. He loved Tiny they were both second generation patches, and were rapidly being usurped by younger members. Spike, for some reason, felt this more than many of his contemporaries, and seeing his brother drifting away worried him. There had been times over the last few months that he had come dangerously close to losing his patch. Not only had his head not been in the game, but he had been picking fights with everyone from prospects to presidents. Although, now that he’d calmed down, Spike couldn’t help but feel that the way he was now was worse. It was like there was nothing there. Just an empty shell. The only time he saw him come alive was on occasions like this, when he was torturing someone. It felt to Spike that Tiny was turning into a psychopath. And he should know. “Hey, bro. You got any plans after this is wrapped up?”

Joe shrugged. “Talk to Samson again, about going nomad.” He pulled on his cut and picked up his bag. “If he says no again, I’ll head out east maybe. Need a change of scene.”

They closed the big double doors and locked the place up. Even if their prisoner managed to cut himself loose, there would be no way he could get out. Joe frowned as he swung his leg over his bike and waited while Spike gave instructions to the prospect sitting in the van. He knew what his brother was angling at. He had been one of the most vocal about him going and tracking down Beth. As far as the SAA was concerned, he needed her and she should be at his side supporting him, not taking to the hills when the going got rough. Maybe he was right. But the fact was, he didn’t know where she was. And if he found her and dragged her back to Seattle, then what? There was no way she still loved him. He had destroyed that.